Altered Alias
by DoubleTrouble28513
Summary: The agents investigate the messy murder of a lance corporal, keeping clues from the person who has a prior connection to the case - Tony's daughter. Wait ... Tony's daughter? REPOST! Sequel to Twisted Truth
1. Stood Up

_**Chapter 1: Stood Up**_

_Ladies and Gentlemen, Pros and Probies of all shapes and sizes! We bring to you the second episode of our NCIS … drum roll please … Altered Alias! __YAYYYY! WOO HOOOO!_

_*crowd goes wild*_

_Tracy: Remember, you have to read Twisted Truth before reading this one...and hope you looked at the last chapter for the teasers! Feel free to take guesses, the poll is still open until next chapter...and give more ideas for commercials!_

_PS – We own nothing of NCIS...we just do kick-ass impressions! ;) And the facts from the game (May 21, 2009, Toronto Blue Jays vs. Boston Red Sox), if not the times when things happened, are actually legit... Now, if only they'd been playing the Bombers …_

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><p>The clock chimed four times, right in Magee's ear. The Marine across from her laughed at her misfortune - he was usually the poor sap sitting there. Glaring at him halfheartedly, she logged off the computer and locked her files in her drawer of the filing cabinet. In the back room, Magee waited patiently for the people in front of her to clock out. When she had officially left for the day, she pulled off her 'properly spelled' name tag (when, she always wondered in frustration, would her supervisors learn that she despised her name being spelled M-A-G-G-I-E?) and gathered her belongings from her locker.<p>

On her way past the desks, Lance Corporal Shaun Magan stopped her. "I'm sorry, Magee. That was rude of me."

She smiled sweetly. "It's okay, Shaun. You almost ready?"

"To be deployed tomorrow?" he scoffed. "I'm as ready as I am Spanish." They both burst out laughing, and even some of their coworkers (who were NOT listening in, of course) chuckled. Although the brown hair and blue eyes made it hard to guess, he was full-blooded Irish. "But … maybe …" he faltered. Magee, still grinning, raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you'd like to celebrate my last night of freedom with me?" he asked in a rush.

All noise in the office seemed to stop. Everyone abandoned the work in front of them, paying close attention to Magee and Shaun. Magee felt the stares from their curious colleagues and turned beet red. "That sounds great."

Shaun's relieved grin grew. "Does O'Leary's sound good, too?"

She nodded. They had bumped into each other there the first week Lance Corporal Magan had been transferred to the area, and both made a habit of hanging out there after work. Magee had a major crush on him, and she had never seen him flirt with anyone but her. "Eight o'clock?"

"You got yourself a date," he smiled. He walked her to the door and, grabbing her hand, kissed it softly. "See you then, Magee Anders."

Magee got to the privately owned bar and restaurant at 7:55 and waited inside to stay dry. She hadn't dressed too formally; nice clothes tended to stand out in bars. A coral shirt, complimented by the multi-hued pink scarf she was using as a headband, and her black jeans made the outfit one that many would have considered fancy for the environment. While waiting, she ordered a Jolly Rancher drink and watched the Red Sox game. Even knowing relatively little about the sport, she knew enough to cheer when Pedroia scored on Youkilis's single to the Blue Jays center fielder.

Shaun wasn't there at 8:15, but she wasn't worried. There were problems, sometimes, when closing the office. 8:30. The top of the fifth inning had ended, and still no Shaun. She ordered a soda, keeping her hands busy so she couldn't call him anxiously. 8:45. The Red Sox pitcher, Lester, retired all three batters in the top of the 6th, not that she cared. Spike, the owner-slash-bartender, had promised her free drinks for both of them all night, in gratitude for the Marine's service and in honor of "a little more love in the world tonight," and Shaun still wasn't there to help her protest his decision.

Magee gave up waiting at 9. "We'll give him what-for, doll," Spike called as she walked out the door.

At work the next morning, Magee fiddled with the lock. "I can't believe he stood me up," she muttered angrily once more as the door swung open. "He's not leaving till tonight. I'll call him, and if he doesn't have a good -"

Magee's rant ended abruptly as she took in the horrific scene in front of her. Turning green, she ran to the bathroom.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Insert intro song here<strong>_

_**Jessi: Du na na ….**_

_**Tracy: Do you have to do that everytime?**_

_**Jessi: ...why yes...yes I do.**_

_This episode brought to you by: FOLGERS...(read on and you'll understand)_

_Gibbs sits in his basement enjoying coffee. Suddenly, the doorbell rings._

_Gibbs goes upstairs and opens the door to find a choir of little children._

_Children: *singing* On the First day of Christmas-_

_SLAM!_

_Gibbs turns away, and goes downstairs. Before drinking any more coffee, the doorbell rings again._

_Gibbs opens the door and sees a choir of nuns._

_Nuns: *singing* We Wish you a Merry-_

_SLAM!_

_Gibbs, aggravated now, grabs his coffee cup from downstairs, then goes back up and waits for the doorbell to ring once more. As it does, he swings the door open to see...five guys._

_Rockapella: *singing__*****__ You'd better watch out, You'd better not cry-_

_SLAM!_

_Rockapella: *muffled* We got a coffee carol..._

_Gibbs: *opens door* … Coffee?_

_Rockapella: *singing* The best part of waking up, is Folgers in your cup!_


	2. Duct Tape

_**Chapter 2: Duct Tape**_

_**A/N:: Tracy: First of all...in the previous commercial, Gibbs meets Rockapella. This is completely inspired by the concert I went to a week before we posted the first chapter the first time. Naturally, they have a Folgers jingle (look it up on YouTube...they do it LIVE...Every...show.)**_

_**Jessi: sings "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?"**_

_**Gibbs: Why? Is she a suspect? I WANT A BOLO OUT ON HER, STAT!**_

_**Jessi: -shakes head- Oh-ma-gawd...**_

_**Tracy: Gibbs, do I really need to head-slap you?**_

_**Gibbs: -death glare-**_

_**Tracy: Gimme a break. It was a Christmas concert, and I can't think of a good way to change the commercial to something with a non-holiday theme. ANYWAY … Typical disclaimer, own nothing, not making money, not being paid to advertise the products mentioned...I just like to play with these poor unfortunate souls...muahahaha btw, if you don't understand this next part, PLEASE read the last chapter of Twisted Truth!**_

_**McGee enters bullpen, and sees Tony asleep at his desk. Smiling, McGee runs quickly to Tony's desk, and observes his neck.**_

_**Tony: Step...away...slowly. What are you doing anyway?**_

_**McGee -frowns- : I was looking for the bendy straw Tracy mentioned.**_

_**Tony: TRACY! You got some 'splaining to doooooo!**_

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><p>The elevator doors opened, and Timothy McGee and Leroy Jethro Gibbs pulled a shell-shocked Tony DiNozzo to his desk. McGee turned around in time to see a teenage girl exit the stairwell. She stopped at the desk in front of the elevator, grabbed two items from the surface, and discarded one of them – a 'World's Greatest Dad' mug.<p>

She sauntered over to the empty desk across from Tony's, ignoring the glare Gibbs sent her way. "Um … Chels … Staci …" McGee hedged uncertainly.

The teen smirked. "Staci, please. Or Cambell." As an afterthought, she added, "Or, in circumstances such as these, I also answer to 'Chica,' 'Hey you,' and 'Whatever the hell your name is'."

McGee nodded. "Yeah, that last one. Why did you throw out Carter's mug?"

Staci grimaced. "My bastard of an uncle put cyanide in it," she growled. "I'll happily pay for another one myself if it means that no one will accidentally die because he wanted an insurance policy."

Gibbs' suspicious look had not yet left his face when dealing with her. "And how would you know what he did? Weren't your eyes supposedly closed the whole time?"

She glared at him as she nodded. "Not only were they supposedly closed, they were actually closed." Rolling her eyes, she went on, "I heard the capsule 'pop' when he pulled it apart. And besides, that's how my uncle always … handled unfinished business." She brushed a wrinkle out of her outfit, a set of hospital scrubs, and looked down when she felt a damp spot. "Damn!" she muttered. "I'd hoped I wasn't covered in blood. Anyone have some clothes I can change into?" she called out to the room as agents began to repopulate the area.

"Holy crap!" Tony whispered. "I have a daughter!"

McGee and Gibbs stared at him blankly. After a second of silence, the younger man returned his attention to Staci. "Maybe Abby has something hidden –"

They flinched when Gibbs opened a drawer in the filing cabinet, loudly. Silently, he handed her a complete outfit. "They're clean," he assured her as he shut the drawer with a 'hip check.'

Staci looked through everything he had given her. In the pile was everything she needed to freshen up quickly, except a toothbrush. She wasn't worried – she knew someone would have some gum. She raised her eyebrows in an obvious question.

"Down the hall, second door on the left," McGee offered. As she wandered off, he muttered to Gibbs, "Whose clothes are those?" Gibbs glared at him. "Well, I know they're not yours, Boss. Pink's not your color. And I was a Boy Scout. You know, 'Prepared for anything.' I wasn't prepared for a girl to ask the entire floor for clothes, and you just pull a woman's outfit from thin air."

"Never throw away," Gibbs lectured, "anything that might come in handy someday." He paused as he sat down at his desk. "They were Jenny's."

"I can't believe I have a daughter!" Tony mused again.

"Neither can I," Gibbs grunted as his phone rang. "Gibbs."

Two minutes later, Staci returned to the bullpen. "Grab your gear," Gibbs ordered."

"What gear?" she wondered even as McGee complied without question.

Gibbs looked at her strangely before replying, "In your case, DiNozzo's backpack. And DiNozzo. We're going to Little Creek. Marine, who was supposed to be deployed tonight, was killed at the clerk's office."

McGee and Gibbs headed straight for the elevator. "Uh, guys?" Staci called out, struggling to pull Tony to his feet. When they had turned around, she said, "I need a piece of gum and an extra set of arms, STAT."

McGee cringed as he went to help her. Still out of it, Tony muttered again, "How do I have a daughter?"

"And a roll of duct tape," she added under her breath.

"Gum's in the car," McGee informed her. "Keeps the ears from popping when Gibbs drives." He passed his pack to her as he hoisted the senior field agent up. "And the duct tape, too," he panted. "We've needed it before."

* * *

><p>Gibbs pulled out of the coffee shop drive-thru, having bought liquid awareness for Staci and himself but making McGee pay for his own. "So … how about a bit of explanation?" Gibbs' tone left no doubt that she would be giving him the information he desired. "How did you meet DiNozzo?"<p>

Staci felt her face pale, but, after the stunts she'd already pulled, she realized he deserved the truth. "He, uh, saved me. From my uncle."

"Jason Cambell."

"Yeah," she sighed, trying to maintain her composure.

McGee turned around to face her. "What Tony said, in Abby's lab … is it true?"

Staci froze. Finally, she resigned herself to answer, "Is it true that he kidnapped me and r-raped me?" She gulped, forcing herself to continue, "Yes, it is." She sighed again, meeting his eyes. "That's the first time I've ever actually said it out loud. He raped me." She breathed in, every fiber of her body shaking with the effort required to maintain control.

Gibbs noticed that she was at her breaking point and changed the subject. "And the bit about how your uncle 'handled unfinished business'?"

She took a deep breath, grateful for the reprieve. "Mom warned me never to take food or drink from strangers." Chuckling, she added, "And that Jason was about as strange as they come." Gibbs grinned. She sobered up, continuing, "We never proved anything, but … when I was five, Mom's parents died suddenly. Let's just say there's a reason she wanted me to live with my best friend."

McGee picked up on that. "Chrissie?"

Gibbs took a hard turn, causing Tony's head to bang on the window. When Staci's stomach returned to its usual spot, she answered, "Yes and no. My sister's name is – was Patricia Rogan. We moved next door to her and her mom, Eileen, when I was seven."

"And you're legally a Rogan, too?" he wondered.

Staci grimaced. "I always wondered why my mother deemed it necessary to saddle me with so many long names," she muttered to herself. "Even as long as my name was, Director Morrow, knowing my … restriction, thought it was a good idea. So I took his advice and tacked it onto the end."

"Restrictions?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Later," she said darkly.

"So, if you were safe and sound with your new family …" McGee paused for another sharp turn, this time into a parking lot. "Why did you need Witness Protection?"

The car screeched to a halt, Gibbs giving McGee a death glare (the one usually reserved for criminals) while putting the car in park. "Get DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered the younger man. Turning to Staci, he continued, "Grab the bags. And don't touch anything inside the building without gloves on."

"I've worked a crime scene before," she muttered to herself as she hurried to comply. Carrying McGee and Tony's bags to the door, she found her way blocked by her father, who was slowly, finally, coming out of his shock.

"Staci …" Tony's voice sounded strained. She waited through several seconds of stammering before he suggested, "Why don't you interview the person who found him?"

She dropped the unfamiliar bags and acquiesced, though furious whispers about paternal instincts and 'an overprotective pain in my ass' reached the ears of all three agents.

"I'm finally starting to believe it," the senior agent said as he rolled his eyes.

"Believe what?"

Gibbs pierced Tony with an inscrutable look. "That she's your daughter, DiNozzo!"

"I know," the Italian agreed. "I have no idea how it could have happened!"

McGee groaned as he pulled the camera away from his face. "You're gonna make … us … give you 'The Talk'?" He shook his head, lifting the camera again. "There go my plans for the night."

Without a word, Gibbs smacked Tony and McGee into submission. "Back to work."

Ducky walked into the office, carrying his medical bag. Nodding once to acknowledge Gibbs and McGee, the latter of whom was walking into the supply closet, the medical examiner said softly, "Ah, Anthony, how are you, my boy?"

Tony grinned weakly as Ducky patted him on the back. "I'm fine Ducky. Really. It's just … I wasn't expecting to hear a reverse Darth Vader comment, ya know?"

"Indeed, I do," Ducky commented. "None of us had even considered the possibility. Though I'm not certain why – she shares her eyes with you." Crouched next to the body, he added as an afterthought, "Nor had I known that one can pass out with one's eyes open."

Gibbs grinned as Tony floundered wordlessly. "Talk to me, Duck."

The doctor carefully moved some of the rope aside as he examined the wound. "I'm not sure at this point, Jethro," he said carefully. "His lips are so blue, they almost could have been painted. That points to strangulation, but," he continued, checking the Marine's eyes, "the lack of petechial hemorrhaging contradicts that theory."

"And why, exactly," Gibbs wondered, "did you decide to rule out strangulation first?" He stared pointedly at the spear, which was protruding from the victim's chest. "The big rod sticking out of him screamed, 'I was strangled,' to you? 'Cause to me, it screams, 'Someone got sick of my fidgeting so they stuck me to the chair – permanently.'"

"Well, it certainly is a possibility," Ducky replied, huffing slightly. "Of course, cause of death could also be attributed to the shotgun wound into which the spear was fired. Or, all of this could be an elaborate attempt to conceal the fact that a solid punch to the jaw killed him," he added, showing the Marine's torn knuckles to Gibbs.

"So no matter what actually killed him," Tony chimed in seriously, "You're saying it was probably painful."

"Yes," Ducky said to Tony. Then, as though the Marine could hear him, he added, "Yes, you did accrue a painful array of possibly-fatal injuries. Well, let's get you home, my boy. Perhaps then you won't be as reticent about telling me your story."

"McGee," Gibbs called out, "help Ducky move the body to the van."

As the younger agent reentered the room, Tony's eyes lit up. As somberly as he could manage, he said, "I always knew you'd have to come out of the closet sometime, Timmy."

The smack to Tony's head came a second too late. McGee glared at him while he told Gibbs, "I think whomever killed our Marine tied him up with rope they found here. There's plastic all over the floor in there, and paper from inside the wrappings with each rope's strength and length."

Gibbs nodded as Ducky put a simple sheet over the Marine, chair, spear, and all. "Bag the plastic. Have Abby run it for prints."

"Sure, Boss." McGee ran back into the closet and emerged again several seconds later, holding an evidence bag full of discarded plastic wrap. He glared once at Tony before laughing. The senior field agent wasn't going to say anything questionable with Gibbs pinching his ear. Shaking his head, he grabbed the rolling chair opposite Ducky. As they pushed the victim outside, McGee sighed, "As annoying as he can be, I'm glad he's back to being Tony."

"Indeed, Timothy," Ducky agreed. "Anthony has been slightly off lately."

"What is your problem, you little twit?" An angry, dangerous male voice made its way to McGee's ears. Looking to his right, he was somehow unsurprised to see Staci standing protectively in front of the witness.

"Obviously, sir," the teenager replied, inserting as much venom into her voice as she felt safe doing, "her problem is that she doesn't want you anywhere near her person. And since I'm protecting her, that makes it my problem."

The man stepped forward threateningly, and Staci reached into her pocket. While McGee knew Staci was perfectly capable of … dispatching a trouble-maker on her own without a sweat, he could also tell that watching a man fly without wings into the building's brick exterior, while the person who launched him calmly sipped her coffee, was not high on the witness's to-do list.

"Is there a problem here, Agent Cambell?" McGee intoned out of necessity, hand resting obviously on his gun.

The man whirled around, uncertainty and fear evident in his eyes. The witness stared at him in awe and gratitude. The teen blinked once in confusion, then, as understanding struck, winked. "No, sir. I was just telling Ms Anders that I'd find her a ride home."

"And I was saying," the man chimed in, "that I would take –"

Something in Staci's eyes kept him from finishing his statement. She turned her intense, though no longer hostile, stare on her colleague, commenting mildly but meaningfully, "Maybe you could drive her."

McGee considered her words for a fraction of a second. "Of course. Let me just talk to Ducky." After Ducky agreed to follow him to the woman's house, McGee quickly returned to the tense trio. "You okay to navigate, Ms Anders?"

The witness nodded.

Staci grinned maliciously, looking at the stranger with an expression McGee prayed was never turned on him. "Let's make sure we're not disturbed," she purred deceptively, "as we finish our … philosophical discussion." Meeting the madman's eyes, she cracked her knuckles.

The unknown man gulped and hurried away, dropping his switchblade in the process. McGee put on a new rubber glove and bagged the knife. "You do know that you'd make friends more easily if you were more … um …"

"Peaceful?" Staci quipped drily. "Subtle? Life-affirming?" McGee nodded. Her face settled into a mischievous smirk. "Yeah, I've been told. But this is what works for me. Why fix what ain't broke?"

The witness laughed once. "I don't know how you got rid of him," she remarked. "I thought he was gonna kill us for sure."

McGee and Staci shared a concerned look. "He's threatened you before?"

"No," she replied pensively, "he just always has this creepy look in his eyes, possessive, maybe. I don't know. I'm talking out of my –"

"DINOZZO!" Gibbs' yell was probably heard all over the base.

Staci and McGee tried their best not to sink into hysterics. Catching each other's eyes, they looked away quickly so as not to fail (quite as) spectacularly. McGee cleared his throat. "I believe a hasty retreat is in order," he said as the two ladies giggled. "Which one's yours, Ms Anders?"

"Magee," she corrected, extending her hand.

"Tim McGee."

"And me as referee," Staci murmured to herself, still grinning at her father's penchant for trouble. She opened the glass door and got knocked to the ground by Tony. "Ow!" she exclaimed from flat on her back. Her father grinned innocently, even with Gibbs looming behind him. "Do I even want to know what you did?"

"He put vanilla flavoring in my coffee!" Gibbs snarled, fuming.

Tony looked sheepish as Staci fell backwards in laughter. "If you're stupid enough," she choked out between chuckles, "to mess with someone's coffee … you better be ready and willing to take whatever they dish out in return."

Gibbs growled in agreement.

Tony glared at his daughter. "Fat load of help you are." Before Gibbs could say anything else, or inflict major damage on Tony's vital organs, the senior field agent raced to the car, screaming like a little girl, and locked himself in the backseat.

"I knew we should have used that duct tape," Staci muttered with a smirk that Gibbs matched.

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><p><em>This portion of the show is brought to you by … well, if you can't figure it out from all the hints in the chapter, I'm certainly not going to tell you now …<em>

_"All hail the Hannah-ness!" the DJ cries at the karaoke bar._

_A young girl gets up on stage and screeches, "You get the BEEEEEEEEEST of both worlds…"_

_Everyone in the crowd cringes and covers their ears. One brave soul (*ahem* Tony *ahem*) stands up, holding a roll of tape. Ripping a piece of silvery stickiness from the roll, he walks to the stage. The girl stops singing. _

_The brave soul grins evilly. "Silence is golden. But Duck brand Duct Tape is silver!"_

_The girl runs screaming from the stage. The brave soul laughs._


	3. How Many Hours In A Day?

_**Chapter 3: Only 24 **_

_**Hey everyone! I told you I'd be back! It only took me four times longer than I'd hoped, but that's what happens when real life gets in the way! Anyway, usual disclaimers apply. On with the show!**_

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><p>They opened the stairwell door, and Tony went to join McGee in the bullpen. Staci tried to follow, but Gibbs grabbed her arm. "Not so fast. I want some more answers." As the door closed, Gibbs leaned against it. "You're an NCIS agent, and you're seventeen?"<p>

The girl nodded. "I was an integral part of mom's success. I mean, what cop or agent would put a child at risk? I was shot when I was three, and … Director Morrow learned not to cross mom, at the very least. I was probational till I could pass firearm proficiency. Seventh birthday."

Gibbs shook his head in amazement. "In the car, you said something about your restrictions. If you're gonna be on my team, even temporarily, I gotta know what those restrictions are."

Staci smirked. "I won't lie to you."

He waited a beat. "Okay … what are they?"

"No, only one. My restriction is that I can not lie. I am incapable of telling falsehoods." She chuckled once. "Big restriction on an undercover, isn't it?"

"You can't … _lie_?" Gibbs sounded incredulous.

"In the hospital, the nurse asked my name, and I blew her off," she clarified. "Tony asked me what _he_, and in his roundabout way, all of you, were '_supposed to_' call me. I can mislead to my heart's content, as long as the statements are true. Idioms, sarcasm, and quotes excluded, I can not tell a lie." Tilting her head, she added thoughtfully, "I never realized how George Washington-y that sounds."

Gibbs' eyes belied his amusement. "And why did the former Director put his two cents in about your name?"

Staci sighed. "Without getting into the whole story, I was four when … my restriction arose. More or less, it had to do with whether or not I introduced myself to people. If it was a last minute assignment, I had—the bosses had no choice but to use some variant of my names. If I had a week prep time, I could force my mind to accept a new name. Only additional restriction on that was, I had to choose the name."

"And that's why you couldn't introduce yourself as Chelsey," he caught on. "Computer generated name." He allowed her to open the door. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "My getting you that non-existent cup of coffee right there?"

Finally, Gibbs laughed.

Tony and McGee stood simultaneously as Gibbs and Staci walked toward the desks. "Abby wants to see us, Boss," McGee said as he and DiNozzo walked past them.

Staci and Gibbs turned to follow. When they reached the door to the elevator, where the other two had stopped, Staci blanched. "Didn't we already do this?"

Tony's shoulders slumped as they moved to the stairs. "We're gonna get old, walking down these things."

* * *

><p>Abby's head repeatedly collided heavily with the table as the four agents entered the garage. Gibbs placed a new Caf-Pow next to her.<p>

"Gibbs, do you even know how long this rope is?" her muffled voice came from the table. "It's like...fifteen thousand yards!" Abby hesitated, lifting her head and sipping the red caffeinated slushy. "Well, not really fifteen thousand yards, cause that would be a lot to cover for evidence, not to mention the hours! There's only twenty-four hours in one day, Gibbs... TWENTY-FOUR! And I have a bowling tournament with the Nuns tomorrow... I mean, Sister Peg has a mean curve, but I'm the one with the great luck with strikes... But no, I'd be down here, getting evidence," she slammed her Caf-Pow down, "and you'd be like _'Abs, status report. Where are we on the bad guy dude?'_" Abby mimicked Gibbs perfectly, "and I'd be like,_ 'Oh my silver haired fox,'_" she said with a damsel in distress voice, "_'I'm working as hard as I can, you can't rush science.'_ And you'd be like-"

"Abs," Gibbs interrupted, both hands on Abby's shoulders to stop her rambling, "today would be better than next week sometime."

"Well, fine," she sighed dramatically. "After going through all the rope, I gotta say...whoever did this was meticulous, took his time."

"You just finished untying him?" Tony was incredulous.

"About five minutes ago," Abby nodded. "And after all the work I did, Ducky takes a Saws All and splits the spear in two like nothing! I mean, I would've loved to take a blade and just cut through all the rope, but noooo, in order to preserve as much evidence as possible-"

"Abby," Gibbs ended her rambling.

"Sorry, Gibbs," she shook her head. "I haven't got the slightest idea how long. With how many knots the killer tied, I'm gonna be running DNA for weeks."

"You got four hours."

"Or...I can talk to you again in four hours! I can tell you this much right now," she said as Gibbs walked away, "This guy is unique, and he's very familiar with knots. Maybe a sailor."

Gibbs nodded, even as McGee and Tony hurried to catch up to their boss.

Staci made no effort to join the team. "You want an extra set of hands, Abby?"

The dark haired girl looked at the teen. "You're supposed to follow the boss-man, Red."

"I figured," Staci smirked, reaching for the box of gloves. "But I already told him a bit. Considering how rude I was in your lab earlier, I thought I could try to make it up to you."

Abby's eyes glinted suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

Her voluntary helper grabbed a plastic bag, holding it open near the pile of rope. Smirking, Staci made her request. "I want a sip of your Caf-Pow."

* * *

><p>"Plastic was clean, Boss," Tony said as Gibbs walked in with his third coffee.<p>

"There were partials on the spear, though," McGee added, grabbing the clicker for the big screen. He zoomed in on the photo in question, which showed smudged fingerprints on the part of the pole that hadn't passed through the Marine's body. "From the directionality, it looks like Lance Corporal Magan tried to pull the spear out."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Tony offered, in a darker tone than his normal, "if our Marine bled out."

Gibbs took a sip of coffee. "And our witness?"

"Magee Anders," Staci chirped as she entered the bullpen, pulling her hair into a high ponytail. "Twenty-eight. Been a clerk in the building since she graduated GWU in '02. Known Lance Corporal Magan since he transferred in, 19 months ago."

Tony brushed her hair off her neck and stared at the spiderweb. "Where'd you get the tattoo?"

"Careful, Tony," McGee cautioned teasingly, "you're starting to sound like a father."

"Abby had it hidden away," Staci said casually. Smirking, she looked at McGee and added, "Next time you take the words out of my mouth, make sure you use all of them."

"What does she know?" Gibbs asked.

"How to kill someone without leaving a forensic trace," Tony replied.

Gibbs hit the back of his head.

"Well, Magee doesn't know too much that'll help us," the girl answered, shaking her head in amusement at her father's antics. "But she gives us a bit of a time line, at least. She clocked out at 1600, left a few minutes later after arranging to meet up with our Marine at 2000 at a bar called O'Leary's. Office closes up to non-employees at 1930, and, unless there are problems, employees are generally out by 1945. She got to the bar at 1955, and left at 2100. Came in this morning to open up at 0730, and, I quote, 'I saw Shaun, freaked out, ran to the bathroom, puked like I was hungover, and called the cops.'"

"Colorful," McGee smirked humorlessly.

"Bring her in," Gibbs ordered.

Staci quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

Tony and McGee froze and shared a Look. "Because he's the Boss and he said so, kiddo," her father replied as though he were speaking to a three-year-old.

"When _I_ have someone brought in," Staci elaborated, "I make sure my people understand my reasoning. Sometimes, they help me see things more logically, meaning I _don't_ show my hand to the bad guys accidentally. So, like I said before, why?"

"She might know more than she told you," Gibbs stated simply.

Staci laughed once, cynically. "First of all, I'm very good at knowing when I'm being manipulated. Secondly, I never got the impression she was lying. And third, the only time she didn't answer me was when I asked her who that crazy guy was. Besides – "

Tony's gear slipped from from his hand as he shared a worried glance with Gibbs. "And what crazy guy might you be speaking of?"

Staci grinned slowly, innocently. McGee looked at Gibbs guiltily. "Something you forgot to mention, Elf Lord?" Gibbs ground out.

"W-well," McGee stammered, "there was, uh …"

"A slight situation outside," Staci stated calmly, "before you tasted your coffee. McGee handled everything just fine. Even better than I was doing."

"Oh, I don't know about _better,_" McGee chimed in.

"I do," she countered. "Because of your intervention, I'm investigating a murder, not being indicted for one. Some dude came up to Magee and me. He was on the verge of entering my personal space threateningly, which I consider assault, when McGee stepped up to the plate and diffused the situation." She looked Gibbs in the eye, continuing her previous train of thought, "And besides, do you _know_ how long it takes most girls to get ready for a date? Three-and-a-half hours is on the short side. Trish could take that long on a school night, double on the weekends."

"Trish?" Tony wondered.

"Chrissie," the others replied in unison.

"Someone, go _talk_ to Magee," Gibbs tried again, "find out more about the crazy guy that neither of you saw fit to tall me about. Other two, talk to the people who closed up with the lance corporal last night, find out what they saw." He sat down at his desk as his underlings headed toward the elevator.

"Why don't you talk to Magee … Elf Lord." Staci made a face.

"I'll talk to her," Tony volunteered.

"McGee already knows where she lives," the girl commented. "Besides, I want to spend time with my dad."

"How does McLovin' know where she lives?"

"I brought her home earlier," McGee snapped back.

"Give me the address, Probie!" Tony demanded. "I'll talk to her."

"But, _Daaaaaaaaaaaaddy_," the teenager whined, complete with pout and puppy-dog eyes. Her father melted. McGee took the car keys and slapped her hand while Gibbs laughed. "Too easy," she smirked, "way too easy."

* * *

><p><em><strong>This episode brought to you by:: JERGENS Hand Lotion!<strong>_

_**McGee comes into view: Hi, I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee. When I need to put a report together, but my hands are too dry to separate papers, I use Jergens Hand Lotion. My hands are-**_

_**Tony: Soft and smooth like a baby's bottom, McDry-hands? Or do you use it to read your own books that you've written about your TEAM?**_

_**McGee: Tony, enough with the book!**_

_**Tony: Only when I get my royalties! and the Girls!**_

_**Tracy and Jessi: Oy Vey.**_


End file.
